Her first laugther
by AmSun
Summary: AU, Rizzles fic. Maura Isles is a renowned therapist that Jane goes to see after her first encounter with Hoyt. Every session is a new chapter. K for now, but will be T or M in the future.
1. Session one

"Jane Rizzoli."

Jane flinched at the sound of her own name, and put down the new issue of _Hello magazine. _She found herself staring into the eyes of a woman her own age, dressed impeccably, with a large smile plastered on her face. Her hair was shaped into perfect curls, and she was dressed in what Jane believed was the latest designed suit. _Just perfect, _Jane thought to herself. _Another perfectionistic happy-go-lucky person. _Despite her displeasure she extended her arm and shook the woman's hand politely.

"Jane."

"Hi. My name is Maura Isles. Lovely to meet you."

"Yeah." Jane did not sound too enthusiastic.

"Shall we proceed to my office?" She did not wait for an answer as she turned on the spot and started walking down a long corridor. Maura opened her office door and smiled towards Jane, who quickly eyed the sign next to the doorframe. _Dr. Maura Isles, psychiatrist. So she can at least give me some pills? That's an improvement. _

"Jane? Would you like to come in?" Maura stood by the group of chairs in her office and gestured towards one of them. Jane obediently entered the room, and sat down in the chair closest to the door. She wanted an easy escape route.

Maura got an alarm clock and placed it on the table between them, and then she placed a package of tissues by the flowerpot in the middle of the table. Jane scoffed. _Not like I'll need those._

She saw that Maura noted the noise, and gave her a little smirk. She did not appreciate the situation, and she was not going to pretend for the sake of this one's feelings. She had done plenty of that, and it was not like it got her anywhere.

"So, Jane, you have been in therapy before?"

"Yeah."

"Six times? You also had three different therapists?"

Jane pursed her lips together. "Yes?"

"So then you know how this initial meeting goes. We'll start with some general questions, I'll then ask you a bit more about your current issues and relationships so I can get an idea of what you want from me."

"Sure."

"First of all- Will you or your insurance company be paying for these visits, and have you filled out the form for the meetings?"

"The Boston Police Department will be paying and the form is filled out, like you asked for, Doctor." Jane stared out the window whilst talking. This woman made her feel uneasy. It was something in her demeanour that made Jane feel less snarky than usual, something that made her almost care. That was troublesome.

"Great. So, how old are you and were are you from?"

"30 years, from Boston, my parents- I mean, mother, still lives here."

"So your parents are divorced?"

"No, they are still together, they have a very long distance relationship, my father in a different state and all?"

"I detect some sarcasm."

"Really? How strange." Jane sighed.

"Hm. I assume you are a member of the police?"

"Correct." Jane thought of making yet another remark, but it seemed lost on this doctor, so she couldn't be bothered.

"And what do you do when you're not at work?"

"I… Have a beer down at the pub. Eat whatever's in my fridge. Humour my mother."

"No hobbies? Partners?"

For a moment Jane paused, a flicker of sadness over her pathetic life stung in her chest. She took a deep breath and answered the question.

"No."

"So, Jane, why are you here?"

An image flickered past her eyes. _Her hands were cold. The steel of the shrapnel that were lodged into them, pinning her to the ground, were freezing, and- It should hurt. It didn't. She could feel the gravel against her back, the wind blowing past her face, Hoyt breathing against her neck, her heart racing and the bile attacking her throat in waves. It didn't hurt.  
_"I was attacked."

"Hm. I imagine you are attacked a lot in your line of work? What made you come here _now?"_

"The Boston Police Department forced me?" Jane shrugged and saw Maura give her a little smirk. She desperately wished she could punch that woman's face in.

"Would you like to try that again? Why are you here _now_?"

Jane sighed and clenched her jaw. "I had some… panic attacks."  
"Okay. Have you felt particularly down or sad?"

"No, I was just almost killed and had my partner find me in the most humiliating position, with a crazy killer attacking me and now I cannot work. Doesn't make me feel down at all, to be frank." She could feel the anger in every single part of her body, tensed up as she was. She just wanted her to stop asking things that she did not want to answer. She wanted her gun back. She wanted to shoot things. That would make it feel better.

"Do you want to be here, Jane?"

"Huh?" Her name made her jolt back to reality.

"You seem angry. Do you want to be here?"

"_Do I want to be here? _What kind of question is that? Of course I don't want to be here, what kind of person actually _likes _therapy?"

"I do." Maura smiled. "Talking might seem pointless, but it has been shown in studies that talking about a trauma can actually be beneficial as you learn to have congruent affects."

"What?"

"Congruent affects."

"I heard you the first time. What does that mean?"

"Well, like, being sad, instead of angry when I bring up a trauma that involves typical elements that would evoke sadness in another person."

"So, feel stuff in a normal way then?"

Maura looked confused. "Yes, that was what I just said."

Jane stared at the doctor in disbelief, and in that moment of silence, the corners of her mouth slowly creeped up to form a smile. She carefully giggled, not used to the sound her body produced. She tried desperately to stifle the laughter that followed shortly, but to no avail. Jane bit her bottom lip, and tears formed in the corners of her mouth. This woman was as insane as she was. Completely crazy.

And here she was, laughing for the first time in months. She shook her head slowly, completely baffled that her body still knew how to actually handle humour. The doctor still looked like a doe in the headlights, completely unaware of what she had just said.

Jane was not sure she liked the idea of therapy just yet, but hey, she had just made more progress in a few minutes than she had made with the first counsellor she saw. That had to count for something. Maybe this would also be the first time she would stay for therapy more than two sessions.  
Jane sat up, wiped the tears out of her eyes and sighed. She looked the doctor in her eyes, and smiled. "Sorry. What did you ask me?"

She crossed her arms over her chest again as they continued the assessment. _Lets not get ahead of ourselves._


	2. Session two

**I'm so grateful for your kind reviews and for all your follows. They managed to motive me to continue writing, so without further ado- here is chapter two.**

"I'm here to see Doctor Maura Isles?" Jane's eyes flickered around the waiting room area. She could feel the other patients stare at her. Maybe they knew her from the paper. The cop that nearly became a victim of the serial killer, his first deviation from his M.O, the one that shouldn't have been alive if it wasn't for her partner.

She felt a desperate need to punch something.  
"Maura will be with you in a minute, please take a seat."  
Jane nodded, and went straight for the bathroom. She rushed inside, locked the door behind her. She still had a solid ten minutes before her session. It was all fine.

She punched the tiled walls repeatedly, her knuckles turning red with the impact. She kept punching, until the uneasy feeling of being pointed out in a crowd had disappeared. _It didn't hurt. _

The time between the punches became longer, and longer. Eventually she stopped, stared down at her swollen knuckles in disbelief. They were red, pounding, and she immediately knew she could not see the doctor with her hands looking like that.  
"Fuck it."

_Maybe therapy isn't for me. _Jane decided to sneak out the door and go home and have a beer. She wanted her gun back, but not that much. She would not let herself go through the embarrassing ordeal of explaining why she had just punched a wall as if it was a life or death matter.  
She unlocked the bathroom door and headed, with long strides, towards the exit. As she opened the reception door, someone else pulled the handle from the other side. Jane ended up staring into a couple of green eyes. They belonged to a certain doctor. Doctor Maura Isles. _Just great.  
_"Jane. Lovely to see you. Isn't your appointment in about… five minutes?" Maura glanced at her watch.  
"I had to check the parking meter. Not sure I paid for an hour."  
"Oh, I see. Well, as you cannot pay for less than an hour in the meters, I am sure you will be fine. Coffee?" Maura handed her one of the two take-away cups she held in her hands, and then started walking towards her office. Jane, dumbfounded and embarrassed stood still, until Maura turned around.  
"Are you coming, detective Rizzoli?"  
"Uh. Yes."

They sat down, and Jane eyed the coffee in her hand. "Why-"

"I would feel bad about having coffee during a session and not at least offering coffee to my patient. It is decaf though, as caffeine can be a trigger of anxiety."  
Jane looked sceptically at the cup of whateveritwas. She refused to call it coffee if it did not contain caffeine.  
"It won't bite, Jane." Maura laughed. "So, how have you been?"

"Well-" Jane took a sip of the drink. "Hey- this actually tastes real."

"See, I told you it wouldn't bite. Again, how was your week?"

"It's been fine."

Maura paused for a second, and Jane shifted in her chair. The silence had been the worst thing with the people she had seen before as well. It felt as if they tried to force her to say something, but she had nothing to add. The question was answered.

"Okay- How did you feel?"

"I told you. Fine."

"See, 'fine' is not a feeling. You can have a 'fine' wine or a 'fine' shoe, but if you tried to explain the somatic-"

"-Somatic?"

"Biological… effects of feeling 'fine', there is nothing you could tell me. Because there is no such feeling."

Jane rolled her eyes. That was such a cliché. As the room fell silent, she did realize that she would have to produce some kind of alternative story though. "Okay. I have been angry that I am stuck."

"Stuck?"

"Yes. Stuck. I am not allowed to work."

Maura narrowed her eyes. "Is that the only reason you have been angry?"

"Yes. Look, doc, I do not need this mumbo-jumbo about feelings and whatnot. I need to be cleared for work."

"Okay."

"Okay?" Jane raised her eyebrows.  
"Yes, I will sign your form." Maura got a pen from the pencil holder on her desk, and then seemingly hovered above her desk for a moment. She wasn't looking at Jane, but Jane could still tell that she was up to something. "…If you can tell me that whatever caused you to attempt to punch a hole into a wall will not cause you to hurt anyone." She turned around and looked menacingly at Jane's knuckles. "If you can tell me that your judgement isn't clouded. You work with people, and you have a responsibility."

Jane, already halfway out of her seat, sank back into the chair again. "How-"

"Can you tell me that? Can you go back to work with a good conscience?"

Jane saw the possibility of holding her gun anytime soon slowly slipping through her fingers. Fuck, she didn't trust anyone with anything at the moment, least of all herself.

"No."  
"Therapy is not _mumbo-jumbo_, Jane. Believe it or not, but it does help against- Well, it does help. Most people should do it, really." Maura sat down again, smiled at Jane. "So will you tell me how your anger has manifested itself?"

"I have had a few drinks too many, maybe. Watched a lot of sports and screamed at the television. Broke my phone when my mother called or the fourth time that day to check if I was dressed and had eaten anything."

"Do you still have the panic attacks you mentioned last week?"

"I do."

"Do you have routines? Food? Sleep? Social life? Exercise?"

"I try to eat, but food just doesn't taste anything anymore. Sleeping is difficult. Exercise-well no. I don't have the energy. I don't have a social life anymore; it is not like I'm going to show up at the station when I don't have my badge. I need to be a detective so I can shut them up, if I came back now, they'd make remarks. Maybe even be worried. That would be the worst. They would never be able to respect me if they saw me like this." Jane made a gesture to her unwashed hair, her sweatpants and the bags under her eyes. "Fuck, all I want is my badge, my gun, and to have the power to kill that fucking bastard. Then nothing would be a problem anymore. "  
Maura didn't flinch at that remark. She didn't flinch at anything. Jane started to wonder what would actually cause this woman to lose her therapy face, how far she could take it. She wouldn't be the one to try, for sure. She had too many dark thoughts, loved her job a bit too much.

"See, for the sake of the anxiety, routines are the most important thing. First of all, I think it might be helpful for you to see me twice a week. Once here, and- well, I do home visits. That would encourage you to keep up with regular things, like cleaning, dishwashing, etcetera, and I would get an opportunity to work with you in an environment where you feel in control." Maura looked questioning at Jane. "Do you think that is a good idea?"

Jane bit the inside of her cheek. She had already said more than she had said to the other therapists. She had already let herself go. If she let this woman into her apartment, into _her life, _what would that make of her? She looked at her hands. They were still glowing red. _It still didn't hurt. _

"Yeah."

"Great. Secondly, you need to eat regularly. It is not about the taste of food, but it will help keep the anxiety away. About your sleep… How long time do you take to fall asleep? Do you wake up during the night? Nightmares?"

"Well, I take about 2 hours to fall asleep. A good night. Other nights I don't sleep at all. I can sometimes wake up, mostly because of nightmares, yes."

"What are they about? The nightmares?  
"General things. Falling for great heights, being humiliated in a crowd, that sort of thing."

White lie. They were about Hoyt, all about Hoyt.

"Hm. It seems like you might have some depression-related insomnia. I will prescribe you some sleeping pills, take one about an hour before you go to bed and they should help you sleep through the night. Lastly, the exercise. You should really think about that. Scientist have found that engages inhibitory mechanisms in the ventral hippocampus, and that can help with anxiety regulation."

Jane shook her head, smiling at the doctors lingo."I did literally not understand a word of that last part."

"You should exercise often because it can help with the panic attacks. I do yoga, that could be great for you?"

Jane suddenly conjured images of her therapist in yoga pants and various positions and cussed at herself. _Yes, she is attractive. She is also a pain in the ass. Get over it.  
_"I am not doing yoga. Sorry doc."

"Well, it would be good for you to do some sort of class, Jane. It would get you out of the house. Yoga decreases your pulse rate, improves hand-eye coordination, increase musculoskeletal flexibility and releases chemicals such as serotonin, dopamine, and endorphins, which can make you feel happier. Also, it is sometimes seen as a natural-" Maura blushed. "-eh- aphrodisiac."

Jane looked at Maura, amused with the obvious discomfort she felt. For the second time in a very long time she felt herself smile, genuinely. There was something about this one. Suddenly, she didn't feel terrible about having to see her again.


End file.
